


Migraine

by JoiningJoice



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Childhood, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: Italiano
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27262597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoiningJoice/pseuds/JoiningJoice
Summary: Sylvain tries to run away.Felix follows suit.« You’re the one good thing that’s ever happened to me, Felix. You know that, right? »
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	Migraine

**Author's Note:**

> _Am I the only one I know_   
>  _Waging my wars behind my face and above my throat_   
>  _Shadows will scream that I'm alone_   
>  _But I know, we've made it this far, kid_

« You’re the one good thing that’s ever happened to me, Felix. You know that, right? »

Felix is standing knee-deep in the snow, air crystalizing in front of his face with each breath. He opens his mouth a little too wide and exhales a little too fast, winding, letting the frost inside his body each time. Sylvain’s black-gloved fingers rest on his chin, helping him keep his mouth shut with as much delicacy as he’s capable of.

« Close your mouth, dummy, or you’re gonna end up dead. », he jokes, laughing. His smile is the one his mother once described in a letter – which Glenn had found and joked about for weeks, although with his usual gentleness. _A sunbright smile has shined upon our dark and wintery land_ , Lady Gautier had written to Felix and Glenn’s mother; _you’ll surely understand how Sylvain’s arrival is nothing short of a miracle, to us, the kind look of the Goddess finally blessing our poor family. My second born will live a happy life._

Right then, looking in Sylvain’s eyes, it occurs to Felix that Lady Gautier might have decided for her own benefit to stop at his son’s smile and never go any further, deluding herself into her own illusion of happiness and balance and ignoring the harsher truth. He takes Sylvain’s hand in his, clenching his fingers as hard as he can and pondering about removing his gloves so that he can feel just how much he wants to see him happy and safe, how bad he wants to help.

The sky behind Sylvain is grey, the trees covered in snow, and the ground a white cloak: a washed-out picture devoid of life against which Sylvain stands, in his harmony of colors – the black softness of the coat, the wavy redness of his hair and teary, sad eyes; the purple of the bruise swelling his face, running towards his neck and disappearing behind the jacket’s collar.

Hanging upon them is the hour following the dawn. It’s too soon to start crying, but Felix can’t help himself: he grimaces, tears running down his cheeks – warm, even when he feels nothing but coldness inside. He grabs Sylvain’s hand harshly, pulls him towards him and presses his face against his chest.

« You could have died! », he screams. His voice drowns in Sylvain’s body, words almost incomprehensible, but he knows Sylvain doesn’t need to hear that from him – he just needs someone to yell at him, to hug him and give a shape to his silent rage, his hidden pain. They’re both quivering; perhaps it’s the cold, perhaps the memories of the night before, still fresh in their minds – as the events preceding them: the Fraldarius’ arrival at the Gautier’s residence, the dinner, the food and alcohol running in abundance; Glenn getting permission from their father to let Felix taste just a sip of wine, laughing at his younger brother’s distasteful reaction. At some point in the evening somebody had noticed the disappearance of the two young lords of the house, Sylvain – always too quiet, a shiny ghost in his own house, not unlike the trembling lights of the candles on the walls – and Miklan – the unwanted soreness on the skin, always too harsh with his words and quick with his temper.

They had left the room together, Miklan’s hand tight on Sylvain’s arm, and Felix had been the only one to notice; but he had also seen Sylvain turning in his direction and raise a finger to his lips. _Don’t say anything_ , he had suggested; and Felix, only nine years of age, had felt true fear for the first time in his life. He had been quick to leave the dining table, as soon as his mother gave him permission to do so, barely a few minutes before the margrave started asking the servants to look for his sons – and in doing so he had lost Miklan’s returning at the table, drunk and celebrating what he had thought to be his final and successful attempt at becoming an only child, freeing himself of the nuisance he had to bear with for twelve long years; but he had make it in time to catch a glimpse of Sylvain’s silhouette running outside, disappear into the night, and he had run to catch up with him. Then, in complete silence, they had kept on walking in the snow, with Felix holding back a thousand questions. At last Sylvain had stopped, looked at him – the bruise well visible where Miklan had tried to strangle him, and even more visible where he had punched him just because he wanted something to get off of – and murmured that stupid, meaningless sentence.

« Why did you run away? », he asks. He doesn’t stop hugging him, but raises his face so that he can look at his miserable, condescending expression. « Where are you going? »

« As far away as possible. », he replies, without thinking it twice. Felix looks as he removes a glove from his hand: he puts a finger on the tip of his nose and smiles once again, and once again without his eyes joining in. « But you should go back, Fe. I’m serious. »

« I’m not going anywhere! », he yells. No one can hear them there, and the hour of quiet whispering is long gone. Not even the sacrality of the dawn can hold back Felix’s anger. « The only reason I should go back is to tell your dad what Miklan did to you! We can tell Dimitri too, and he’ll tell his dad, and he’s the king, so he can do something about it! And if Miklan treats you bad anyway then… I’ll do something about it myself… »

His voice lowers with every new sentence. Sylvain looks at him with content, amused by him. Felix doesn’t want his pity: he’s well aware of how little of use he’d be in that situation, but he also knows very well that he’s not one to just let things be as they are.

« And if you want, you can go on and leave. », he continues, his voice reduced to a sad muttering. « But I’m coming with you. »

He’s not that scared by that perspective – it actually fills his chest with pride. They might even be able to make it, out there: follow Glenn’s teachings and live out of mercenary duty, run from the cold forever. He has thought about visiting Almyra, that unknown place even adults seem to be scared of, and he wants to see it with Sylvain.

« I’m coming with you. », he repeats; the last word he only whispers, because Sylvain lowers down to hug him so tight that he almost stops breathing, for a moment – a moment where Felix’s whole world consists of Sylvain and Sylvain only, every sense of his drowning in his presence. His heart sinks into his chest when Sylvain’s lips brush against his cheek, leaving a slow and careful, affectionate kiss.

« You’re a good kid. », he whispers. He doesn’t let him go, either – just stands with his cheek pressed against his, his arms around his body, and at a certain point Felix has the impression that it’s not Sylvain hugging him but rather the contrary. He feels him, small and defenseless, even if he’s so much bigger than him, even if he’s keen on hiding every negative thought behind a huge smile. When he finally leaves him, he brings with him a part of Felix – he’s not yet able to pinpoint exactly which one, but he will; one day he’ll try to reclaim it by calling him a selfish bastard. For now, he just stares at him.

Sylvain is smiling and, even with the bruise swelling up his face, Felix can tell it’s a sincere one.

« Let’s go home, Fe. », he murmurs. Then he offers him his hand, still gloveless. Felix hesitates just for a brief moment: he looks behind them, in the direction they never got to take, his heart heavy in his chest. Then he grabs his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> can't believe it's been one year and the only piece of sylvix i managed to produce is this god 2020 hit me bad


End file.
